


Falcor Rising

by itsminimes



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, consider yourselves be warned!, there will be dragon sex at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25880392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsminimes/pseuds/itsminimes
Summary: Eliot is in Fillory and he needs the Vision Key. Quentin is at the Cottage and he is doing research to help find it but he hasn't had much success yet. Poppy Kline pops out of nowhere asking Quentin to help with a dragon research issue. Quentin can't resist helping out a damsel in distress/friend in need so he jumps into an adventure with many unknowns.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh, Quentin Coldwater/Falcor the dragon, Quentin Coldwater/Poppy
Kudos: 6





	1. Dream

The dark alley was creepy but the location spell couldn’t be wrong: the vision key had to be there. The eerie silence made no sense, considering that the busy street he came from wasn’t that far behind. Quentin hesitated for a moment. He put his hand in his pocket and touched the gun he was hiding there, to reassure himself. Margo had insisted when she sent him out to get the key and he accepted to take her gun just to appease her, but now he realized it had been a good idea. He kicked an unidentifiable aluminum can with his left foot and it went right into the back wall with a loud noise. Nothing else stirred. Feeling braver, Quentin took a few more steps in. Where could the key be? A niche on the walls, a hidden door? There was nothing there. The alley was blocked by a red brick wall covered in unreadable graffiti. Quentin touched it tentatively and felt its coarse texture under his fingers. Nothing. What the…

Suddenly there was blinding light and Quentin instinctively covered his eyes. When he removed his hand the brick wall was gone and in front of him stood a huge golden dragon.

“Hello, Quentin! Nice to see you again!” The dragon’s voice was deep and cultured. Sexy.

“… What?” Quentin whispered. He couldn’t find his voice.

“How soon they forget…” The dragon rolled his green eyes. “I was once Falcor to you.”

“Fal…cor? You… you’re so big!” Quentin knew he was babbling but he couldn’t control it.

The dragon puffed his muscular chest and his golden scales gave out flashes of light as they moved.

“You noticed… Anyway, dragons grow at a different rate than humans. We mature fast but we age very very slowly which is quite convenient. But let’s not talk speciest matters. You came here to find something which happens to be in my possession. I have what you need.”

“The vision key?”

“That too. I will give it to you because I remember how you tried to protect me when I was an egg. A dragon never forgets!” The dragon’s eyes glinted gold. “Give me your hand!”

Quentin obeyed and Falcor handed him the key.

“I will ask for a small favor, in exchange, of course.”

“Thank you.” Quentin said at the same time, closing his palm around the key. What???

“You didn’t ask what the favor was.” Falcor reminded him with an unreadable expression.

“What do you need?”

“I have a craving and I want to eat you.” The dragon smirked, his eyes shining brighter, now more gold than green.

“W-w-w-what? Can’t we talk about this?”

Quentin stepped back and tried to get the gun from his pocket. The dragon laughed and he felt his hand freezing on Margo’s gun.

“Oh, dear Quentin… You are in my power. You don’t have a choice. I am going to eat you up!”

Quentin watched in terror how the dragon came closer, getting bigger and bigger and more menacing. His eyes were all gold now. He watched his nostrils shiver as he inhaled deeply and then he breathed out his formidable flames. The fire engulfed him but Quentin didn’t feel the burn. It was more like a cool, soft caress all over his body. It felt good. It felt arousing… He opened his mouth to ask the dragon what was happening and the soft flame entered his mouth licking at his tongue when…

…………

“Quentin, wake up!” Penny shook him, probably harder than necessary.

“Your dream is too disturbing for 6 AM. I really don’t need this sick imagery early morning when I am trying to have a healthy breakfast!”

Quentin rubbed his eyes. He was in his bed, in his room at the Physical Kids Cottage, surrounded by familiar things. He gave Penny the intruder a side glance. He was holding a glass of Bloody Mary in one hand and a celery stick in the other.

“Healthy breakfast - my ass.” He muttered, rolling his eyes.

Penny took a bite of the crunchy celery and frowned at Quentin, somehow looking amused at the same time. “Do you… have a boner?”

Quentin hastily covered himself up to his eyeballs with his soft, overwashed light blue sheet, embarrassed, but then he remembered and yelled indignantly:

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“Learn to use your wards, perv!”

Yeah, that… Quentin suddenly felt drained of energy and lowered his voice. “Just get out of my room, Penny!”

Penny went out the door laughing.

What a way to start the day! Quentin tried to shake the still vivid dream from his head. What a strange dream! And it did leave him with a hard-on that didn’t seem to go away. So weird. But he remembered very well how arousing the dragon flame touch was. Maybe Eliot was right and he REALLY needed to get laid instead of waiting for some impossible love. Eliot was always right.

Even if…

Eliot, beautiful, off limits Eliot… Literally on another planet, married off to some stranger. Eliot who needed the vision key to save Fillory…

Quentin sighed but he got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a piss, a shower, a jerk off and a tooth brushing. In no particular order.

Time to start the day!

…………... 

Quentin poured some milk over his Crunchy Berry cereals and exited the kitchen area with the bowl in his hand. It was late for breakfast, but he got caught up in a book and he kinda forgot to eat. Entering the common room he headed for his favorite nook by the window only to trip over a velvet pillow someone must have left on the floor. He managed to keep his balance by pathetically waving his free hand in the air, but the cereals were safe. He heard some laughter and a voice calling him a dork but he ignored Penny and Kady.

He ate in silence, looking out the window at the bright day outside and thinking he won’t be able to enjoy it as he needed to do more research on the vision key whereabouts in the library. So far he had no luck locating it. The dragon dream was the closest he got to the key. So weird! He shook his head.

A bright light behind him made him turn. He saw a small portal opening and who other than Poppy Kline crawled out into the common room, turning quickly to magically lock the portal door behind her. She then got up, flicked her long red hair back, regained composure and looked around.

“Quentin! Just the man I was looking for!” She smiled at him and went to give him a long hug.

“Hi, Poppy. Is everything alright?”

“All good!” Poppy made big eyes at him, trying to look sincere.

“Let me tell you about my research. Can we talk somewhere private?”

Back in his room, sex happened naturally, like conversation between old friends. She pushed him against the door and kissed him, he responded enthusiastically and they started removing each other’s clothes in a rush to get to the point. Their excellent sexual compatibility still worked like a charm – was it a charm? Quentin was never sure when it was about Poppy. She started talking about her dragon research while still on top of him and Quentin really tried paying attention but apparently he was bad at multi-tasking so he didn’t catch much of what she said. She laughed breathily at his attempts to make approving sounds like he was into the topic but she abandoned talk for action. Later, post orgasm, she started playing with his chest hair and began explaining to him again.

“As I was telling you, my new office is in Paris. Researching dragons is not easy because most of them are so old, they are testy, crabby loners who are already sick of the world and everything on it. Very hard to work with! I kept hoping to find a younger mated pair and two years ago I discovered that egg – remember Quentin? You helped me with it and you were such a good egg daddy!”

Quentin suddenly remembered the dream and opened his mouth in surprise. He said in a small voice: “Falcor?”

Poppy laughed out loud.

“Yes, I remember the silly name you gave it. You know, Quentin, dragons don’t get named, like pets, they choose their own name.”

“Why did you come to me? Not that I didn’t enjoy your visit, of course!”

Poppy kissed his naked shoulder and looked away.

“I can’t do it all by myself. I need a partner. You are the only one I trust, Quentin.”

“Poppy, I don’t know much about dragons and… my life is here.”

Poppy covered her face with her hands. “I’m in trouble, Quentin. I need your help.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and held her tight. She leaned in to press her cheek to his and continued.

“I know you don’t owe me anything. I know I have no right to disrupt your life with my problems. But we’re friends. Or… at least I consider you a close friend. You’re such a good man! And somehow I ran out of friends I can depend on. It’s my fault, I know… But I am desperate. Just help me this time. I promise it won’t take too long. You’re my last hope.”

“OK, princess Leia.” He smiled. “I can take a little break from my quest and I will try to help you out.”

“Then we’re going to Paris!”


	2. Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the dragon sex chapter. Proceed with caution!

Quentin didn’t believe in coincidences. Especially in a world of magic. Poppy showing up out of nowhere, after 2 years of radio silence, right after the dream where a dragon handed him the vision key… ignoring the connections would have been foolish. He took a long drag out of his cigarette and exhaled a dragon-shaped smoke cloud, pensively watching it fly away and dissipating into the cool evening air. It was nice out there, on Poppy’s small balcony, facing the river Seine. The intricately wrought iron railings contained wards that kept it completely private from the outside world but open to the lovely view of the river. He could feel the dark-musky scent of the river and hear the urban seagulls cries. It was soothing. Quentin felt tempted to let his guard down and just relax but… He had a job to do. Find the vision key and keep Poppy safe from the mysterious threat that had already drained her magic twice.

According to Poppy, Paris was the hub of the dragons’ world. Dragons were accumulating fabled fortunes in their underground palaces. The magical underground was said to be just as vast and fabulous as the city above. The dragons were collectors of both magical and non-magical treasures and the value of their collections established their status among their peers. Poppy’s sources told her about a young dragon who had amassed a vast fortune in a very short time. In his palace he supposedly had chambers full of gold, but he also made a huge fortune in every currency possible on the Paris stock market. Yes, dragons were also shapeshifters and they were big players on the world’s stock markets. Poppy had tried to bribe the dragon’s secretary with magical objects, as she was clever and resourceful and she knew how the world worked, but she hadn’t had luck getting into an one-on-one meeting with the dragon. Yet. She knew she was close. She learned a lot by interviewing hedge witches that had worked for dragons and their associates in the past and she even started writing a book about draconians that was moving along very nicely when the attacks started.

The first time she was attacked, she was coming home from an unsuccessful date/informer recruitment with a vampire (in spite of their age, vampires knew nothing of value, being less into knowledge, more into instant gratification.) All Poppy felt was a dizzy spell that made her faint right where she was, in the middle of a busy street by the river. Someone must have called an ambulance because she woke up at the hospital, feeling all her magic gone. All her tests were good so the doctors decided the episode had been caused by stress and she was advised to hydrate better and take a calcium supplement. The calcium didn’t replenish her magic though. In order to do that, Poppy had to go through days of drinking ridiculously expensive AND disgustingly tasting magic potions and cordials till she felt like her old self again.

The second attack happened when she was doing her morning run on the river walk. This time she didn’t blackout, but only because she had taken to wear strong protection crystals every day, sewn into her bra. But her magic was gone again and her body translated it into a strong autoimmune attack. She felt ill for a long time. The potions did their job again but this time she needed more than two weeks of treatment. Clearly, the attacks were getting stronger or her magical resistance was diminishing.

Quentin took the magic draining attacks seriously. Few creatures were capable of inducing such damage undetected. Poppy needed stronger protection. She also should have seen a professional magician healer instead of self medicating but she was too stubborn for her own good. For now, Poppy had to stay at home, in her well warded apartment, until Quentin could figure out what was happening. It wasn’t easy to convince her to just stay put and let someone else take charge for a change but she was frightened enough of another attack to listen. And no book in the world was worth becoming a magician without magic. Potentially permanently.

She could tell that the attacks had something to do with her work, but she couldn’t pinpoint which one of the people and creatures she had used for research, not always willingly on their part, was holding such a grudge against her.

Quentin played with his own hair absentmindedly, twisting a strand of hair into a knot he then had to smooth over again. He remembered reading that in the past some master magicians had been capable of siphoning magic from other magicians in order to increase their own power but for that they had to be face to face with their victim and that was not the case with Poppy, at least according to her story. Magic stealing spell books were now probably hidden into a secret corner of the Library, as they were illegal and dangerous. An invisible magical creature could do it though… but what creature? The first suspect was the vampire Poppy tried to date/use as an informer. That’s where he needed to start.  
………….  
Poppy had met Vincent the vampire at a pretentious 5th Arrondissement nightclub and that’s where Quentin was going tonight. He knew his soft well-worn t-shirt-and-hoody outfits weren’t going to get him into any respectable club in Paris so for this occasion he decided to go for full black: black leather shoes, black dress pants, slim fit and sleek looking and the black semi-sheer shirt with vertical stripes that Eliot had given him as a present when he was still trying to get him to dress sharp for Brakebills formal events. That shirt represented everything Quentin was not and Eliot had to know that sheer was too sexy for formal, but Quentin hadn’t said anything at the time. He had been too much in owe of everything Eliot to get a voice.

He tied his hair into a bun at the back of his head. A spray of cologne and he was ready to go. Poppy whistled approvingly when he went to say goodnight and she didn’t let him leave until she unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt and stole a kiss from him. Quentin just laughed and shook his head. He didn’t exactly feel comfortable but he knew he looked good. Eliot had told him so one memorable night when he almost gathered the courage to tell him he wanted him.

……………  
The buff nightclub bouncer recognized him as a magician and let him cut the line. Some of the people who were waiting outside the club’s door protested loudly but they shut up quickly when threatened to be banned if they commented on the bouncer’s choices.

The club was upscale and modern and definitely LGBT-friendly. Quentin found a seat at the bar and caught the eye of the bartender.

“A scotch, please!”

The bartender poured him the drink. “American, right?”

“Yes.”

“Nice to see a new face. I’m Marcel. If you want to have a real good time and get our special magical drink, just ask me. I’m always at the service of my fellow magicians. Especially when they’re just my type, like you.” he flirted easily.

“I’m actually looking for someone.” and Marcel sighed dramatically, disappointed. “His name is Vincent. He’s a vamp.”

“Just a second!” and Marcel rushed to set straight another client that had been rudely banging his empty glass against the bar.

Quentin took a sip of his drink when he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned.

“I’m Vincent” the small brunet said. He had dark blue eyes and full lips and he smiled at Quentin sweetly making dimples in his cheeks. Quentin felt a little taken aback at how young and innocent he looked, but he knew cherub looks can be deceiving.

“Jason.” He lied without much thinking. “Can I buy you a drink?”

An hour and a vial of truth serum sneaked into a bunch of vampire-adapted drinks later, Quentin knew more than he needed to know: Vincent made digital art and was quite successful. He liked street art and Caribbean rap. He liked to dance really closely and was very open to having sex with him right away, in a secret back room, as he knew the owner of the club and had access to it. He kept insisting he knew the owner, like that was all the credentials “Jason” needed to accept the proposal. He was friendly, chatty and handsy. He only vaguely remembered Poppy and he unflatteringly commented that she should have acted more like her age. He knew nothing about magic siphoning. He clearly didn’t have anything to do with the attacks – it had been a false lead. When Quentin tried to say goodbye, he made huge pleading eyes at him asking him to stay and he wouldn’t let go of his hand until he pulled it forcibly, only to back off into a solid, warm mass.  
“Is there a problem here, Vincent?” a deep voice asked.

Vincent made himself small. “No problem, Monsieur L’Ignissard.”

“Introduce me to the American, Vincent.”

“Jason, this is Monsieur L’Ignissard, the owner of this club. This is my friend, Jason, and we were just leaving.”

The club owner had to be one of the most attractive men Quentin had ever seen. Tall, well build, impeccably dressed and charming, Monsieur L’Ignissard was a treat for the eyes with his beautifully chiseled features, killer smile and intense green gaze. He had an aura of powerful magic that Quentin couldn’t identify but instead of alarming him, it drew him in.

“The club is more of a hobby. My real playground is the stock market. Anyway, nice to meet you.” They shook hands looking into each other’s eyes and he felt an instant but powerful connection to the beautiful and mysterious club owner.

“What’s a nice magician like you doing with a vamp of ill reputation like Vincent?” Vincent blushed but said nothing. Quentin had had no idea vampires were capable of blushing.

“We have a common friend and I came to see Vincent hoping he could help her.”

“Let me guess: he was useless.” A rebel dark blond curl fell over the tall man’s forehead, covering his right eye and he raised his hand to pull it back, only to have it flop back again, visibly annoying him. It was cute and it made him look softer and younger. Quentin could tell he must have been young. Younger than he was trying to project.

“He helped me as much as he could.” He found himself defending the vampire boy who gave him a wet, grateful look in return.

“Maybe I can help you. Nothing magical happens in this town without me knowing about it. Let’s talk in my office.” It was the voice of a man who was used to be listened to and obeyed and Quentin found this attractive. He smiled and nodded.

Vincent gave him a last long look and turned away and vanished into the club’s crowd.

Quentin followed the man without hesitation and was led to an elevator door. They went down. The ride was smooth and short but since the all-metal shiny and sleek elevator cabin only had an up and down arrow indicator, Quentin couldn’t even guess at what level they were when the door opened. What they entered was not exactly an office, but rather a huge luxurious living room with glimmering surfaces, due to a combination of dark wood and - was it brass or dark gold? - decorated in a modern, masculine style and featuring artwork that probably belonged in a modern art museum. The room did have an office area with a big antique desk and Quentin was immediately attracted to the impressive bookcase behind it. He went closer to check it out and it looked well-stocked with antiquarian rare books, but his host gently touched his back and led him away to a rich blue velvet sofa, inviting him to sit there. He then opened the button of his perfectly tailored blue suit jacket and made himself comfortable in a leather armchair facing him.

“Tell me what you need to know.” The sonorous voice had a mesmerizing quality.

“A magician friend of mine has been attacked and I am trying to find out what was it and how to stop it.” Quentin felt compelled to answer sincerely. Something about this man made him trust him and it wasn’t just the fact that he was gorgeous and smiling so friendly and openly at him.

“It sounds like a long story. Would you like a drink while you tell me all about it?”

Quentin declined the drink remembering that he already had several that evening and he knew he needed to keep his wits about him with this man. He proceeded to tell him about the attacks on Poppy.  
“I have never met anything like that before. I’m not even sure where to start looking.”

“I’m going to make this easy for you. For this kind of an attack, you need an ancient dragon. There are quite a few dragons in Paris, but each one has their own territory. If both attacks took place by the Seine River…”

“It’s Amelie…”

“How do you know Amelie?” His host’s beautiful face showed genuine surprise for a moment and he got up and sat on the couch by Quentin’s side taking his hand in his.

“I don’t know her. I know OF her. My friend tricked her in the past. I thought it was old history but maybe my friend needs to make amends.” Quentin was usually uncomfortable with people suddenly invading his personal space but this man made him feel safe somehow.

“It’s really hard to obtain the forgiveness of a dragon. A dragon never forgets, Quentin. That’s why your friend came to me to mediate.”

“Poppy came to you? What? How do you know my name?” Quentin should have been more shocked at what he was hearing, but he still felt that strange bond to the beautiful man, compelling him to trust him.

“I know a lot more than you can imagine.” His voice was soft and soothing, like he was talking to a timid baby animal.

“Who are you?”

”I’m Falcor the dragon.” And Quentin was hit with a vivid memory of his dragon dream. Yes, dragons were shapeshifters and Quentin shouldn’t have been that surprised at the revelation, considering all the magical clues, but for a moment he felt seriously out of his depth.

“I thought dragons chose their own names.” He said in a small voice.

“I chose the name YOU gave me. Just like I chose you.” Falcor took his hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss on it.

“Why me?”

“Quentin, there’s a light inside you that few people have. I have been drawn to this light from the first moment we met, when you touched my eggshell. Everybody feels the magic pull to love and protect a dragon egg, but that time I felt the same pull towards you. You are a man of pure heart. You have no idea how rare and precious that is.”

Quentin felt skittish all of a sudden “I think I could use that drink now.”

“Don’t be nervous, Quentin.”

Falcor reached out and gently touched his face, turning it towards him. “Look at me.”

Quentin looked up and instantly got lost in an adoring green gaze. Falcor drew his fingers over his jaw line in a light caress then he removed the tie that kept Quentin’s hair in a bun. He put his face into the soft locks of hair the fell free and inhaled his scent deeply, like a drug.

“Just let me…” and he couldn’t talk anymore, his eyes glittering gold. He got closer to kiss Quentin’s surprise-opened mouth, one hand at the back of his neck, keeping him in place, the other sneaking underneath his shirt to caress his back, sending long shivers down his spine.

Quentin had never been kissed like this. The warm tongue slid sweetly over his open lips before going in and driving him mad. He kissed back with all the passion he was capable of, feeling completely lost and for once in his life he just knew the dragon felt the same way. They were bound by this magic connection that was keeping them perfectly in tune with each other. It was bewitching. Some heady magic like he never experienced before. The dragon moved to kiss his neck and he heard himself making a needy sound. He never wanted the kiss to end, like he just couldn’t have enough, grabbing desperately at the dragon’s shirt collar and not knowing what to do with it.

“Quentin, you’re driving me crazy!” moaned Falcor and he stopped and took a breath and then started to remove Quentin’s sheer black shirt, his fingers unsteady on the buttons.

“Let me!” he managed to say, but the dragon lost his patience and ripped the last buttons off. No! That was Eliot’s gift! No! What was he doing? He was there to find Eliot’s vision key!

The golden eyed dragon read his thoughts and tried to appease him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I have the key. I’ll give you the key and anything else you desire, you just stay with me. You belong here, with me.” Falcor kissed his chest and he took off the shirt completely, throwing it away. Quentin threw his head back as the dragon moved to sweetly torture his nipples, nipping and licking and sucking and licking again. He was over-sensitized and flush with arousal watching through his eyelashes how Falcor hastily and expertly removed his own clothes, revealing his perfect upper body, sculptural and smooth and so tempting to touch: soft skin on soft skin, heated flesh on heated flesh.

“I can’t wait anymore!” and the dragon pinned him to the couch kissing down his treasure trail while his hands opened the clasp of his belt and unfastened the pants buttons, pulling them down his thighs.

“I want to taste you!” but Quentin was out of words by then. He felt the dragon nuzzling at his already leaking erection through his underwear, suckling at it and making a huge wet spot on his white Calvins. He moaned and grabbed at the dragon’s hair, wanting more. Falcor obeyed his wordless plea and pulled down his underwear, watching hungrily how his erection popped back up. He licked his lips, ready to proceed, but he looked up when he felt Quentin pulling his hair.

“Let me touch you too.” He managed to say and Flacor nodded and removed the rest of his clothes. Quentin was looking at a perfect specimen of masculine beauty who was watching him back with heated eyes. Quentin drew his hand over the dragon’s chest noticing small flashes of golden scales underneath the smooth skin appear under his touch. He was fascinated by this reaction and he touched him more and more just to see that golden glint. He looked back at Falcor, big eyed and amazed and seeing the approving smile he got in return he continued to explore by touching that hot chest with his mouth while his hand moved down to get acquainted with what had to be the biggest cock he had ever seen. It felt hot and heavy, pulsing hard in his hand and he tentatively started to jerk it. Hearing the dragon inhale swiftly, he felt emboldened and moved so he could hold both their cocks into his hand and tried to get a rhythm going, giving in to the pleasure himself. He felt Falcor’s hand covering his and helping out while his mouth was on his, kissing him and swallowing his breathy moans. He tried to protest when the hand moved away but his exclamation was lost in their kiss.

“I have to taste you, Quentin.” And who could object to that?

Falcor didn’t tease, he put his mouth on him, swallowing around him, taking him in deep and Quentin didn’t know his name anymore. He’d had blowjobs before, but this was an out-of-the-world experience because not only that Falcor knew instinctively what he liked best and gave him just that, but he could also feel him back, through their connection, enjoying sucking him like he was the world’s most delicious feast and he was starving. They were so in tune, the dragon knew when to slow down, right before the moment of no return, and he gave Quentin two fingers to suck on, to distract him. And Quentin showed off all his cock-sucking art on those fingers, getting them nice and wet. He then felt Falcor touching sweetly his hole, petting the soft hairs there, getting him wet and ready for more. Maybe not that huge cock yet, but… And a finger slid past the muscles, feeling for his sweet spot, followed by the second finger, making him moan in pleasure. He opened his legs a little more and gave in into the sensation. It was maddening hot and he wondered if he could come just like that when Falcor put his mouth back on him, making him cry out. Having his prostate masterly finger-banged while the world’s most talented tongue swirled expertly around his cock before being swallowed deep into the throat of a man who really enjoyed it – it all became too much stimulation for poor Quentin and he soon found himself riding the wave of a fantastic orgasm that had him coming and coming and coming…

The dragon swallowed every drop and then he took his painfully hard cock in his own hand and started jerking it over Quentin’s body that was still spasming in orgasm aftershocks.

“You’re mine, Quentin! Mine!” the dragon roared, his golden scales on full display all over his still human-shaped body, coming all over Quentin’s chest and face and covering him in his scent.

But Quentin was too blissed out to care. He actually blacked out for a moment. La petite mort. When he came through he tried to catch his breath and recover from the biggest orgasm of his life. He took short inventory of the situation. He was lying on his back on the big comfortable blue velvet couch, technically only partially naked, since his underwear and his pants were bunched down his legs and his shoes were still on. He was flushed, covered in sweat and come, his hair wet from perspiration and clinging to his face. He couldn’t have made a pretty sight but the dragon at his feet looked at him adoringly.

“I told you I would eat you up.” He said, eyes all gold and shining.

………………

Quentin pulled lightly at the ropes. They were loose enough not to hurt his hands and tight enough not to let him out. Why was he even a magician when he couldn’t use magic in actual moments of need, like this one, when he was naked and tied to a bed? It had to be a magic-proof bedroom, of course…. He heard the door open and looked up.

“Why am I not surprised to find you like this? When Penny told me you went to Paris to play boy detective for Poppy this is exactly what I knew it would happen!” The familiar voice was warm and the hazel eyes fond.

“Eliot!”


	3. Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter in which Eliot fights a dragon for Quentin

“Tell me what happened.” Eliot asked while untying Quentin.

Quentin retrieved his clothes and started getting dressed. The dragon liked him dressed in all the finery that money could buy but Quentin felt ridiculous in those soft white embroidered shirts and silk lounge pants that were all too revealing. Where to start? With Poppy sending him to the dragon’s lair in order to get help clear her own mess with another dragon? It wasn’t like Falcor hurt him or mistreated him in any manner and she knew that, so he couldn’t blame her too much. The dragon had been tender and gentle with him. Even the tying up – he knew he deserved that for trying to escape with the Key. And he’d been tied up for fun before, so it wasn’t exactly a novelty. But this time, the dragon wanted him to feel his power. He wanted him to submit. Falcor didn’t trust him anymore. After an intense week of mad sex and declarations of devotion, Falcor had given him the Vision Key, as promised. It was then that Quentin had the vision that shook him to his core and broke the powerful dragon magic that connected them. That vision… That future was worth fighting for… Quentin couldn’t stay with Falcor anymore, but the dragon made it clear that he intended to keep him as part of his collection, his most treasured prize. Why was he such a prize to the dragon, Quentin couldn’t even begin to guess. He never thought much of himself. He wasn’t the most handsome, he wasn’t the smartest. Nobody ever accused him of being the funniest, so that was a dead track. His magical talent was mediocre, in spite of his enthusiasm. He had issues and he could be bitchy when things weren’t going his way. And that was the good part. He had been hospitalized 3 times in a psychiatric hospital. He remembered so well those gray times, when life lost all color and purpose. His brain broke sometimes, no special reason needed for it to happen. He knew he was deeply flawed and this had the potential of stopping him from ever being truly happy. Yes, the euphoria of excellent sex did help him keep the signs of clinical depression at bay these last days, but they were always there, under the surface. Deep, dark and troubled waters underneath the placid surface of a lake. Deep down, he had always felt unworthy of love and he had a tendency to sabotage a good relationship just to prove himself right. He had a number of psychiatrists explain to him that this kind of rumination was just byproduct of his depression and not a real thing, but it felt real to him. Being treasured and thoroughly loved by a dragon hasn’t exactly been bad for his self esteem. And he loved the dragon’s book collection. His alone times were spent in the study, with a book to enjoy. And he really enjoyed the look, the smell and the feel of those wonderful, precious antique books. The pages felt silky and thick under his careful fingers. The hand painted illustrations and the wonderful lettering of the manuscripts were a joy to behold. Quentin had been enthralled. The dragon preened seeing him admire his collection. Quentin had been content, if not happy. And all came to an end when he held the Vision Key.

“El. Let’s just say I tried to leave without saying goodbye and it was a bad decision.”

“Did he hurt you? Are you OK, Q?” Eliot was still worried, his clear hazel eyes filled with concern.

“I’m OK. Maybe I am the one who hurt him. It’s a long story. Complicated. You know me, I always complicate things. My special talent. Now let’s just get the Key and get out of here.”

“You found the Vision Key?” Eliot’s eyes sparkled, pleasantly surprised.

“Yes, it’s in the study.” He had dropped it on the desk when he had the vision. The dragon felt how the magic connection between them was severed and became alarmed. Falcor pleaded with him to stay, try to be happy together. He tried to persuade him with sex. And Quentin had been weak… he couldn’t resist. And he didn’t. He also felt guilty, which he rationally knew it wasn’t the best way to react and deal with the situation, but seeing the frantic desperation on Falcor’s face… Deciding to leave in secret may have been the worst idea, but it was the only idea he could come up with. Because of course the young dragon had magical wards set up to prevent just that. No wonder he ended up tied up naked to the bed… Come to think of it, the wards must have been in place even now…

“Eliot, there are magical wards set up to alarm the dragon if I try to leave. We have to make a plan first.”

“Well, how do you think I got here undetected? The finest of Fillory magic!” Eliot pulled a flask from his pocket. “Eau de Wellspring. The most exclusive and powerful magical water. Sometimes it’s great to be High King.” Eliot lifted the flask, shaking it a little at Quentin’s face. “Drink me!” He said, in a cartoonish voice, trying to be funny. But this wasn’t Alice in Wonderland, even if Eliot was dressed for meeting the queen of heart. Before Quentin could take a sip, they heard a roar.

Eliot made big eyes and asked in a small voice: “Is that a dragon’s version of “Honey, I’m home”?”

“Let me talk to him!”

But Eliot grabbed a big sword from a wall hanging plaque. “Stay put. I know what I’m doing.” And he rushed towards the entryway, murmuring an incantation.

“If you think I’m gonna sit here and cry into my lace handkerchief like a damsel in distress while you get killed in combat, you don’t know me at all, Eliot!” Quentin jumped to follow him. He was worried sick and also very, very pissed off.

They met an angry Falcor in the spacious hallway.

“Who the hell is this, Quentin?” Falcor uttered in a bellow of rage.

“Falcor, calm down. Let’s just talk. I will explain everything.” Quentin tried to get between Falcor and Eliot, a move that managed to annoy both Falcor and Eliot.

“I’ll deal with him, Q!” / “Stay away, Quentin! I don’t want you to get hurt!” They both said at the same time. And then the dragon did more. He raised a finger at him and gave him an intense look and Quentin felt time slow down, like everything was moving in slow motion. Slower, slower, until he was frozen on the spot.

“What did you do to him?” Eliot’s voice was filled with barely contained anger.

“I’m keeping him safe, you, idiot! This is between you and me. Nobody takes what’s mine!”

“Q doesn’t belong to you, dragon. Release him, or I’ll make you release him. I’m warning you, I’m a master swordsman!”

“I’m better than you at anything, you, puny human!” and Flacor raised his hand and caught a golden broad sword that came flying to him.

Quentin watched them start dueling. Eliot was light on his feet and knew how to gracefully fend off the dragon’s heavy attacks. He was the better technical fighter, but Falcor had much more raw power. The heavy swords clanged together and sparks flew in the air. Eliot was doing a great job, masterly wielding the sword, but the dragon was advancing, pushing him back towards the bedroom. Quentin’s heart was beating so loudly, he felt like everybody could hear it. He felt powerless and hopeless. He didn’t want anybody to get hurt. He mostly didn’t want Eliot to get hurt. He didn’t think he could deal with the idea of Eliot getting hurt. Or worse. All this craziness was his fault. And he could do nothing to stop it. A dark cloud of despair came over him.

Eliot made a jump to the left to fend off a powerful blow from Falcor and he grabbed a big porcelain vase (probably a priceless antique) and threw it at his opponent’s head, to distract him. The vase broke into a million beautiful blue pieces and the dragon roared enraged. He blindly threw himself at Eliot and Quentin watched in horror how he raised his golden sword faster than humanly possible, ready to hit and put an end to Eliot. But Eliot flew away from the hit. He swiftly stepped up on empty air with the self assurance only a telekinesis master could have and he landed on his long legs behind Falcor, managing a clear blow to his shoulder on his way down.

Falcor made a pained growl and started changing form. His scales started showing first and then he started growing very fast. His fine stock market high player work clothes ripped off at the seams and fell to the floor in pieces, to leave room for the dragon to grow. The dragon was huge and awe inspiring in his golden glory. He forced a shocked Eliot to back off into the bedroom. The magic-free bedroom, Quentin thought with horror. Eliot stood no chance there!

Quentin knew he had to help Eliot at any cost. He concentrated on the beat of his own heart and with a tremendous effort, he suddenly shook off the spell that kept him frozen to the spot. He ran after the dragon and positioned himself in front of Eliot who was awkwardly holding his sword, all his magical knowledge in yielding it gone. His longish black curls were covering his pretty, aristocratic face, now sweaty with exertion. He looked dead serious and quite distressed.

“Don’t hurt him, Falcor! Please!” Quentin screamed, with tears in his eyes.

The dragon stopped when he heard his voice. He turned to Quentin, his eyes still glowing in fury.

“He tried to take you away from me!” his voice boomed. But he started to shapeshift, turning back into human form. He stood in front of Quentin and Eliot nude, as his clothes were still lying on the floor, torn to pieces by his transformation. He was magnificent, a view to behold, impossible to look away from.

“Do you really want to keep me here by force? Is this what you want?” Quentin knew his only hope was to make Falcor see reason because nothing could really match the power of an enraged dragon.

“I want you to want to stay because you love me.” And Falcor looked away, his eyes suddenly hurt and vulnerable and Quentin felt his heart constrict in his chest for a moment.

“This is not how it works and you know it.” He said in a soft voice.

“You think he will love you more than I love you? He can’t even say the words to you! He can’t even say the words in his head!” And Quentin had to look at Eliot who was stood awkward and silent, watching their exchange.

“Eliot and I… it’s different with us. We’re brothers of the heart. That’s all that matters now. But this is about you and I, Falcor. We’re not meant to be. It’s destiny. I had a vision about it. You know the Key is never wrong.”

“I don’t care. It’s you who I want.” Maybe sometimes a mighty dragon could act like a petulant child.

“You are such a young dragon. You will live for hundreds and hundreds of years. You will meet other people who are more worthy of your love than I am.”

“There is only one of you, Quentin. How can you not see that?”

“There is nothing special about me” admitted Quentin, his voice a little rough. He looked down and let his long hair fall and cover his face, an unconscious gesture that he made when he was feeling too raw and exposed. And he was indeed overwhelmed with everything. His emotions were jumbled in his head and he felt unable to bring his clutter of thoughts back to order. And he needed to do it. His life, Eliot’s life, the actual future depended on it.

Falcor sighed and came closer, to take him in his arms. Quentin didn’t resist and he let himself be held and comforted. Eliot coughed but said nothing.

“Everything is special about you. Even your magic is amazing. You just countered my freezing magic. Nobody does that, but you somehow managed.” Falcor’s voice conveyed genuine wonderment and Quentin silently thanked him for the sentiment.

“If you force me to stay, I can’t be happy.”

“Just let me love you. I could make you very happy.” The dragon pleaded one more time, but it was clear he knew he was losing the argument.

“I have to go and fulfill my own destiny, Falcor. And so do you.”

Falcor closed his eyes for a moment and he took a deep breath.

“I know.”

And with his acknowledgement Quentin knew he had won. He breathed out in relief. He looked at the big, beautiful nude man, towering over him. His wide shoulders were lowered in defeat, his green eyes penetrating him with an all-knowing but sad gaze.

“If your happiness is out there, I will not stop you. I wish… I wish…” and Falcor let out a bitter laugh. “I actually love you enough to let you go.” He said, somehow in disbelief at his own words.

“Thank you.”

“It’s not your gratitude that I want.”He said bitterly.

“Thank you anyway.”

Quentin turned to Eliot who was picking at his stylish vest lower button, looking maybe embarrassed, maybe conflicted. “We’re leaving now.” Eliot nodded.

“Stop. Take the Vision Key. It’s yours, like I promised. It was always meant for you. I only got it because I knew you were looking for it.”

What can you do when you have a dragon’s love and generosity thrown at your feet? How do you repay that? You just can’t. And you have to live with that.

“Thank you.” Quentin said, not hiding his emotion in his voice.

There were golden tears into the eyes of the dragon as he watched them leave.

……………………………………………………………

“I thought you were going to stay with him.” Eliot said, finally. They were walking by the Seine huddled together as the night was chilly and both of them felt the need for closeness anyway.

“No. Of course not. I had to leave.”

“What vision did you have when you touched the Key?”

“I can’t tell you. It was personal. The dragon only knew it because we were magically linked at the moment.”

“A Fillorian soothsayer said I needed to bring the Vision Key to Fillory to learn how to prevent a great ill coming to the royal house and the country. You know soothsayers are crazy powerful and kinda quirky. You can’t mess with them. I couldn’t take any chances with that. I needed the key. Thank you for finding it for me, Q!”

“I can’t believe you fought a dragon for me, Eliot. With a sword! I just picture Margo’s face when I tell her the story…”

“Picture Margo’s face when I’m telling her how big was that dragon’s dick! But yes, I’m quite the romantic hero! Gallant knight at your service!” Eliot laughed but then he suddenly became serious. “She knows I would die for you, Q. To save you, I mean. You and Fillory, of course.” He backtracked, suddenly unsure of himself.

“Well, I’m coming with you to make sure you save the royal house and Fillory. It’s time for me to take my responsibilities as lower king seriously. I’ve been drifting away from my favorite magical place for too long.” Quentin smiled and Eliot smiled back at him. All was well between them. Everything was going to be alright.

………………………………………………………….

It turned out the Key gave Eliot a vision that helped him change the gods written Fillorian law. The high king could finally make the changes that would end the forced medieval time and that would lead to a better life for all Fillorians – humans and magical creatures. And a better life for himself and his wife, as they now could finally get a divorce. Fen wanted to marry Margo right away and Margo was ecstatic about the idea. Eliot was just happy to be free of the absurd commitment he had to make when he was pushed by destiny to take the Fillorian throne. And Quentin – he was happy to be by Eliot’s side every day.

Quentin still had bad days. Days filled with anxiety and doubts. Days when he couldn’t make himself get out of the bed and face the world. But it was then that the dreams came to him. In his dreams he was bathed in golden fire and all his worries were erased. He felt loved and reassured. His million broken thoughts melted and turned into clarity and warmth. In the dream state he could indulge in the magical sensation and let it heal him.

So Quentin knew the dragon still loved him. And a part of him loved him back. But it was a different kind of love, a different kind of connection. Because Quentin’s heart belonged only to the man from his vision. The Key hadn’t shown him something new, or unexpected, but the vision gave him clarity. He saw himself and Eliot in love and happily married, raising a family and getting old together. Maybe it wasn’t the most spectacular destiny, but true happiness can be so simple… True happiness is worth waiting for. True happiness is worth fighting dragons for. Or the temptation of dragons…

…………………………………………………………

“Q! I knew I would find you here!” Eliot stood in the doorway of the armory where Quentin was studying an old Fillorian magic book, trying to find an answer to why the corn crops were turning purple. Everything else seemed normal but the odd color was striking and the people were whispering and muttering and, once again, questioning the high king’s decision to change the laws set by the Fillorian gods. The current conspiracy theory was that Ember was going to punish every person who ate the purple corn and turn them into field mice. They really needed to solve this problem, but maybe it could wait for another day. Quentin closed the book and smiled at Eliot.

“I’m at your service, my liege!”

Eliot rolled his eyes. He shook his head, amused and smiled his grandest smile at Quentin.

“Let’s go out. It’s such a beautiful night for a walk. And maybe we can find the Winter Dove and we could ask her for a champagne well or something…”

“Or we could ask for a cure for the purple corn…”

“Anything you want, darling!” And Quentin’s heart filled up.

Eliot held out his hand and Quentin took it and held it tight and let the undeniable, inescapable warmth of love spread through their bodies, to their hearts. And they walked together hand in hand, out of the room, out of the castle, into the mist of the magical Fillorian forest, glowing pale under the double moon.

The End


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